


Bring Me Java

by fictorium



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Baristas, Coffee Shops, Diving, F/F, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fish out of Water, Government Conspiracy, Journalism, Medication, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Self-Medication, Small Towns, Undercover, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9896177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictorium/pseuds/fictorium
Summary: Supercat canon divergence. Cat Grant Barista AU.Okay. So. This is kind of a dare? Cat's off diving but it turns out she's working at a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere. Kara goes to her, and wonders what in fresh hell is going on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a fun indulgence right now, and I'm not sure whether to continue it/put the time into it just yet. Let me know what you think?

 

Kara has idle daydreams about when she’ll hear from Cat. She envisions personalized stationery all the way from the Orient Express, or a knowing postcard from Paris. In darker hours, those 3am-can’t-sleep-for-missing-her hours, Kara worries the first communication she’ll have from Cat is a scream, or  a stutter in her heartbeat. 

Instead, it’s a messengered note written on a napkin from a Bulletproof Coffee store. Cat couldn’t find the time to open her email, or the money to buy actual writing paper, but she took the time to scribble an address and FedEx the damn thing to Kara’s office at CatCo. So almost exactly the level of drama Kara has been pining for these past few months. It isn’t even signed, relying on Kara to recognise that impatient handwriting with its tight loops and jagged lines.

Since there’s no detail, Kara doesn’t waste time or money on the façade of looking up the nearest airport and booking commercial flights. She looks, just in case, but the number of changes suggest Cat is truly in the middle of nowhere, USA. If there’s a spa resort there, it’s so exclusive that the internet doesn’t contain so much as a whisper of its existence. 

So Kara logs the coordinates and Supergirl makes her first landing in wherever-the-heck, Wisconsin, twenty minutes ahead of the time Cat ordered them to meet. The only witnesses are three disinterested cows and a surprisingly angry goat. Which, it turns out, is because she overshot by some distance. The town itself is mid-sized and not-quite bustling, the main streets occupied by small businesses, serving a population who mostly work for at the big plant on the far side of town. 

She blends right in with her plaid shirt and jeans, nobody gives her a second glance as she makes her way down Main and finds the local branch of Bulletproof. So intent on checking the occupants of the tables, almost all empty mid-afternoon, it takes Kara a full minute of standing in the store before thinking to look behind the counter.

She has never wanted a photographer by her side more. Kara is tempted to fly back to National City, grab James, and have him fill every memory card he owns. It would also be really helpful to have a witness.

Because behind the counter, in polo shirt, apron and honest-to-Rao baseball cap, stands Cat Grant. CEO of CatCo, even in absentia, and apparently now a barista. She’s doing some kind of art on top of a latte, judging by the frown of concentration and the way she’s dragging a toothpick through the foam. Kara is seriously tempted to call her sister and ask if Kryptonians can experience a stroke.

“Vanilla latte?” Cat calls out, with all the authority she’d carried back at the office. A tall man almost leaps out of his seat to come and collect it, leaning in like he thinks he stands a chance.

“You know, this is the best vanilla latte I’ve ever had,” he says, wincing as he takes a sip while it’s still too hot. Pity he doesn’t notice the foam mustache it gives him. “Thank God you showed these guys how to make a cup of joe.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Cat responds with her fakest smile. She turns to Kara with the blankest look of non-recognition. “What can I get you, ma’am?”

“Did… did you just… _ma’am_  me?” Kara sputters. Cat gives her a split-second warning glare. The man is taking his time about retreating back to his table. “Well, uh, with a rave review like that I guess I need to try a vanilla latte.”

“Good choice!” Cat turns back to the chrome of the coffee machine, scoops some ground espresso and starts the process of making Kara’s drink. It’s the Twilight Zone meets Twin Peaks, with a dose of Stranger Things thrown in for good measure. Kara thinks she might explode with the need to ask what the hell is going on. Man in a suit finally gives up on Cat’s attention returning to him, so Cat whispers to Kara while pouring the milk to steam.

“When he leaves, follow him. Get the license plate of any car or truck he gets in. Then bring it back to me, understood?”

“But-” Cat starts the screeching sound of the steamer, drowning out further conversation. She hands Kara the latte in a to-go cup a minute later. Kara fumbles in her purse for some change, eventually slapping a five-dollar bill down on the counter.

“That’s a nice tip,” Cat replies with a wink. All too soon, another customer appears behind Kara, and she’s at a loss for what to do with her - damn, pretty delicious - latte and apparent stalking target.

Thankfully the suit gets up and makes his exit a moment later, with one last lingering glance at Cat. Kara makes a show of checking her phone, following him into the street as though completely unaware anyone else just left. Cat nods in approval, chatting away to the mom with a toddler who’s getting her afternoon caffeine fix.

Sure enough, instead of the Ford or Chrysler parked out on the street that Kara would have bet on, her target walks down the street a little way before ducking into an alley. A moment later a government-issue Suburban comes rolling out into traffic, all the windows blacked out. Kara dips her glasses to confirm with x-ray that the man is in the backseat with another guy in full tactical gear.

Okay. So Cat is definitely onto something weird. Which answers one question out of the thousand or so that Kara has. She heads back to the coffee shop, just in time to hear her own name being yelled by a balding man who’s halfway out of the office marked ‘Manager’.

“Danvers!”

“Yes?” Cat replies. Kara lets the door swing shut behind her, and stares, completely dumbfounded. “And I told you, it’s Catherine.”

“Never mind that, I’m cutting out early. You close up today.”

“Fine,” Cat sighs, coming out from behind the counter and jerking her head to indicate Kara should take a seat. The man disappears back into the office, and Cat drops all pretense of cleaning tables to sit down opposite Kara. “Well?”

“Well?” Kara doesn’t know where to begin. “You tell me, Catherine _Danvers._ What is going on? What are you even doing here?”

“It was the first name that popped into my head,” Cat explains, with one of her irritated little finger-waves. She checks over her shoulder that no manager has returned. “And as you probably just confirmed for me, I’m on the trail of some high-level government corruption.”

“By making lattes?” Kara scoffs. She takes another mouthful. “Although seriously, how did you get so good at it? This is the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

“I can’t help excelling at every task in front of me. Now _focus_ , Keira.”

“Don’t Keira me, _employee of the month_!” Kara blurts, catching sight of the plaque on the wall. Cat’s gaze in return is withering, but just a little shamefaced. “I thought you’d write me one day to tell me you’d solved world peace. Or were President of France.”

“You need to be French to be President of France-”

“Instead you’re hiding out in some small town? Making coffee and chasing stories that are probably nothing?” Kara realizes she’s getting mean, but this is not the big reunion she hoped for. “If I did something like this you’d be on the first flight with an inspirational speech to stop me. So… what happened?”

Just as Cat seems ready to spill the, well, beans, the door jingles one more time and Carter walks in. 

“Hey mom… Kara!” He greets her with a hug, as though just last week he was on that exploding train. “You finally came. I’ve been bugging mom for weeks about-”

“Kara doesn’t want to hear that, darling. How was school?”

“You’re in school here?” Kara gasps, and Carter gives her a searching look in return. “I mean, of course you are. School is important. Helps you feel settled.”

“I gotta pee,” Carter announces, because teen boys will be teen boys. He drops his backpack on the empty chair between Cat and Kara.

“Okay,” Kara leans back in her chair, setting the last of her coffee down. “Now I’m just worried.” 

“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” Cat sighs, getting up and retying her apron. “I’m sorry. Go back to National City, Kara. I assume you won’t have trouble with the return… flight.”

“I’m going nowhere.” Kara folds her arms over her chest, knowing her suit is there beneath her shirt. It’s hopefully just as intimidating. “So I’ll take another one of these perfect vanilla lattes, please. And after work I want the whole story.”

“Fine,” Cat sniffs. “You’d better have that license plate.”


	2. Chapter 2

In two years as Cat’s assistant, Kara arranged every conceivable method of transportation for her. Short-notice helicopter flights, chartering the CatCo jet to unpronounceable locations, picking up any number of sports cars that Cat kept for all of three months before trading in for something newer and faster. Hell, even the hiking boots that she wore exactly once to chaperone Carter on a school trip. Kara had chosen the perfect pair. 

None of that has prepared her for the sight of Cat Grant, now minus her baseball cap and apron, but definitely still in a generic polo shirt and… _cargo pants_ opening the door of a Volvo SUV. It’s such a soccer mom car that Kara worries for a second Cat might be stealing it. Only Carter strolls right up to it, pulling open the passenger door, before changing his mind and climbing in back.

“I left the front for you, Kara,” he says with an easy smile, before popping his earbuds in and losing himself to whatever is on the screen. A second later he yanks the door shut.

“Well?” Cat calls from the driver’s seat, the engine already purring. “I don’t have all day.”

Shaking her head against the surrealism, Kara hops in and slams the door closed behind her. She barely has time to fasten her seatbelt before Cat has them roaring out of the car park, kicking up some loose gravel as they head straight off the main drag and out of town.

“You want me to write that plate number down?” Kara asks, and she gets a brisk nod in return. Music starts playing without Cat touching anything, and Kara realizes it’s Carter controlling things from his tablet. “He can’t drive the car with that thing, can he?”

“I hope not,” is all Cat says in response. Kara tries to relax in the passenger seat, but it’s thoroughly weird to let Cat do the driving. They’ve never been in car together without a third person doing the driving. 

Kara watches the world go by, or in this case the Wisconsin countryside. It’s so far from any place she’s been with Cat, not even close to anything Kara could have imagined. Something is off, something in the whiteness of Cat’s knuckles as she steers them round sharp bends on quiet roads. Carter’s watching them intently from the backseat, however hard he pretends not to be. She’s learned over time with both Grants not to push, but unless Cat comes out with a full explanation soon, Kara is pretty sure her intel is going to come from Carter.

The house they drive up to is nothing like Cat’s properties in National City or Metropolis. It looks closer to the Danvers’ house in Midvale than any of those. It’s clear that if she’s going to stay sane on this little road trip, Kara is going to have to stop her mind melting at how out of her element Cat seems to be. 

“I have to make a call,” Cat says once they’ve all piled out of the car. “Carter, can you show Kara the kitchen? I’m sure she’s hungry.”

“I am,” Kara admits. She’s relieved to have a chance to talk to Carter alone so soon. “Which way?”

“Didn’t you bring bags?” Carter asks as they walk into the perfectly lovely house. It looks a little bit set-dressed, like Cat pointed to the interiors in a catalog and said ‘make it like that’. 

“Oh, I don’t know how long I’m staying,” Kara admits. “It might just be today.”

Cat has taken off into a room opposite the staircase, closing the door firmly. No answers there then. 

“Kara?” Carter looks to make sure that door is closed before pulling her further into the kitchen. “I’m worried about my mom. Are you worried, too? Is that why you’re here?”

“She needed my help, bud,” Kara answers, not willing to give away too much. She doesn’t know enough to give at this point. “But why don’t you tell me what’s up - why you guys came here, why you’re worried, and I’ll see what I can do to help you both, okay?”

“You want some chocolate milk?” Carter asks. “We have some great chocolate milk.”

“Sure,” Kara agrees, taking a seat at the kitchen counter. It’s so homely she can almost picture Eliza making pancakes, Alex drumming her cutlery on the table willing the pancakes to be ready sooner. Kara lets Carter take his time, pouring them each a tall glass. When she takes a sip, she has to agree that it’s pretty great.

“So my mom said she was looking for a new challenge,” Carter says. “She was away for a month, I think. I had to stay with dad the whole time. Then she showed up and said we were moving here for a while. Dad didn’t like it, but I think he missed having his weeks off, you know? Cause the custody agreement says he can’t do certain things while I’m there.”

“Did she tell you what the challenge was?”

“No.”

“And where did she go for that month?”

Carter shrugs. “She just said she was tidying up some work.”

That is something Kara knows isn’t true. She kept access to Cat’s calendar and email for the first two months of her absence--work and personal. Not to spy, of course not. Just to be able to rectify any mistakes Eve might make. Eve hadn’t had a chance to make many at all. For all intents and purposes, Cat went off the grid. 

The sound of a door opening interrupted them, and a moment later Cat appeared.

“Sweetheart, go start your homework. I need to talk to Kara.”

“But Mom--”

“I know it’s easier than what you’re used to, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to do it,” Cat warns. “I’ll be through in a minute.”

It’s not hard to tell this is leading up to her dismissal, and Kara panics at how much she doesn’t want to be sent away. Not now. Not when she has the hint of _something_ between her teeth. She’s supposed to be here, she just knows she is. 

“Thank you for coming,” Cat says, stiff and formal like she hasn’t been since the Siobhan debacle. “I’ll take that plate number, and I’m sure you’ll be back in National City in time for dinner.”

“Ms. Grant--”

“Kara, please. I’m sure you’re curious, but I have things well in hand here. You can just go home.”

“If you just needed surveillance, you could have bribed a local kid to watch the cars for you. Hell, Carter could have done what I did today, more or less.”

“Hell?” Cat repeats. “Well, haven’t you gotten feisty?”

“Why did you ask me to come halfway across the country?”

“Why did you do it?”

Kara blanches at the direct question. She should have seen it coming. “Fine, I can go home. But I’m only going to come back tomorrow, and the day after that.”

The confirmation of what Cat insinuated earlier is confirmed, then. Kara expected to feel lighter than she does. “Can I guess why?” Cat asks.

Why not? Kara nods, trying desperately to control the blush that will surely give her away.

“You’ve missed me. Oh, not in a post-traumatic used to the routine way. I’m sure your email is full of unsent drafts, and more than once I’ve checked my phone to see your three little dots… only no message to follow-through. So I send a veiled invitation, and here you are before end of business.”

“Doesn’t loyalty count for something?” It’s a desperate attempt to divert. 

“It’s one of your qualities, yes.” Cat steps closer, fussing with the hem of Kara’s cardigan for a moment. “But you’ve missed me more than you should. The reason I know this, Kara, is that I’ve missed you in a similar way. Unless you’d rather keep… beating around the bush?”

“That depends,” Kara answers. “I’m not really into long-distance.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to keep coming back.” Cat releases her, heading for the fridge like they were talking about nothing in particular. “I’ll clear it with Snapper, whatever time you want to spend here.”

“For the story?”

“Amongst other things.” The look over Cat’s shoulder is smoldering. Kara grips the counter to make sure she stays upright. 

“O...kay. I’ll have to make some arrangements, but I can be back tomorrow.” Kara moves toward the door. If she doesn’t, she’s going to march over to that fridge and… and… well. Do something she probably can’t take back. So home it is. To think, to pack, and to make arrangements for Supergirl to leave the city without causing a panic. She can do that.

“Fly safe,” Cat teases, and with that Kara is off. She super speeds across a few fields until there’s absolutely no one around and then takes off. When she lands back in National City, her mind is made up. She’s going to get the story all right, but not the one about guys in blacked-out cars.

No, Kara Danvers is going to solve the mystery of Cat Grant, and she’s going into the field to do it.

***

“Hey there, Employee of the Month,” Kara says, wheeling her borrowed suitcase into the coffee shop and sitting right at the counter. There’s no sign of the manager from yesterday. 

“You want to mock me?” Cat demands. “Or do you want my perfect latte?”

There’s a metric tonne of innuendo behind that. Kara tries to lean into it. “I want you...rrrr perfect latte. Unless you have shady bad guys you should be chasing.”

“Oh, I do. But now that you’re here, you can do the legwork for me.”

Kara pretends to consider. “That’s a big favor. I get to ask something in return.” There’s still a way to back down. To say she wants mentorship, journalism lessons, hell even fashion tips. Though that’s a hard sell with Cat in an apron. At least she’s wearing an actual blouse under it today. There’s noise outside the door, people heading in for their morning coffee. It’s now or never.

“Take me to dinner and tell me all the ways you want to work my legs.” 

Cat smiles down at the counter for a moment, and Kara knows in that instant that she made the right move. They don’t get a chance to discuss details, the people outside come trailing in, one and two at a time. Presumably they all work in the same place. Kara takes a seat and pulls out her notebook, noting the time and their brief descriptions. She can check later if Cat needs her to do that with just everyone.

“Catherine!” One of the men greets her. “You’re becoming the highlight of my day.”

“Caramel latte, right?” Cat asks, her fake smile firmly back in place.

Kara writes down his name when he gives it for the cup, and sighs quietly to herself. She’s not entirely sure what the hell she’s gotten herself into. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara starts finding her way around her new temporary home

Kara files her outstanding work for Snapper while what passes for the morning rush in this sleepy little town works its way past Cat’s counter. In between her notes on the people in line, she mostly watches Cat. The woman she just asked out, using innuendo, no less.

It must be the country air. 

Gravity does feel slightly different out here. Not in any way that humans would be able to tell, other than that strange lightness that comes from having clear skies and lots of space. Kara’s itching to go flying on a local scale, rather than just dropping in and out, but until she gets a handle on what Cat thinks is going on with the government, it probably isn’t wise. 

Before long the café has settled down, and it’s still a pinch herself moment for Kara to watch Cat come out with a clean cloth and wipe down the few tables. Of course she’s looking for information, too. Once or twice she pockets a receipt or some other piece of paper left behind. Then she’s at Kara’s table, sitting down with a sigh.

“Hard work?” 

“I suppose I should say something wholesome about how rewarding it is,” Cat begins. “How nice it is to reconnect, to work with my hands and be back amongst real people.”

Kara snorts. She really can’t help it. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. I miss being the boss. I miss having an army of minions to call on. And all this good honest hard work is giving me is a sore back and stiffness in my fingers. Don’t even get me started on my facial muscles. I’ve undone years of botox and fillers with all the fake smiling.”

“So is it worth it?” Kara kicks the suitcase she’s brought with her this time, drawing Cat’s attention to it. “Is this where you need to be?”

Cat nods. “There’s a story here, Kara. And it might just take both of us to get all the way around it.”

“So what’s the plan?”

Cat pulls a small notepad from her pocket. Black jeans today, expensive and fitted. That’s more like the Cat Grant that Kara is used to. Just discreet enough that no one should look twice. Well, unless they’re blatantly checking out Cat’s ass, which Kara suddenly realizes is exactly what she’s doing. 

“Here,” Cat says.

Kara flips through the book with super reading speed. Addresses, coordinates, each with notes about access and population. “These are sites I haven’t been able to scope out any further yet. You’re looking for anything out of place - equipment, cars, people. I’m aware you have a certain skill set that should allow you to go undetected. Make sure you don’t draw attention, but if anyone comes asking then pull that ‘aw, shucks’ crap you use around the office.”

“Hey!”

Cat tilts her head, daring Kara to deny it further. Okay, so maybe she does do that. Sometimes. 

“Don’t come back here today, it’ll be too conspicuous. There’s a black Chevy out back that you can use to get around. I left a set of house keys in the glove compartment. I’ll see you back home when I’m done with this shift.”

“And if anyone asks me what I’m doing in town?”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something. You can tell them you’re staying with me, that much is going to be obvious.”

“And if I, Kara Danvers, suddenly move in with _Catherine Danvers…_ ” Kara knows she doesn’t have to push this point. They could be sisters, cousins. Nobody in their right mind would suggest Cat is her mother, even Kara isn’t in deep enough denial to think that’s appropriate for the strange chemistry they have. Besides, being related seriously dampens her chances for that fun kind of legwork they were flirting about earlier. 

“If you want to play at undercover married like some buddy cop show, I have no objection,” Cat announces, rising to deal with an incoming customer. “Just don’t get carried away.”

Kara sits there for a few minutes longer, willing her brain to restart. No big deal, just her former boss, full-time crush, and general wonder woman, casually suggested they can pretend to be married. That’s… totally fine. Not at all distracting. When a pointed look comes her way, she packs up her things and goes out with a small wave, heading straight around to the parking lot to find the car that Cat has somehow already acquired for her.

Only it’s a truck, and hardly brand new like Cat’s Volvo. Kara supposes it will have to do, grabbing the house keys first and setting her case on the front seat before driving off. The best way to explore town and lock in a map would be to do a flyover, but that’s not an option until she knows the lie of the land. 

An hour later and she’s covered the whole town, getting as close as she dares to the addresses Cat has noted, doing her best not to draw attention. When Cat mentioned Kara’s special skills, she probably didn’t mean the ability to blend into her surroundings, but to Kara that’s every bit as valuable as flight or x-ray vision. Her few attempts at the latter have found lead in the walls at some of the sites, and it’s the one fact she notes down. Maybe it used to be standard in construction of these older buildings, but somehow Kara doubts it. 

At the last of them, what’s signposted as a dairy farm, Kara pulls up on the side of the road and calls Alex. She’s going to need something to keep her feet on the ground.

“What’s up?” Alex answers. “Bored of the country and flying back already?”

“No, I’m intelligence gathering,” Kara says, though sitting by an empty field feels a long way from that. “On a kind of stakeout, in fact.”

“Is Cat really still serving up fraps and tortilla wraps to the good people of… where was it again?”

“Yeah, you know how I said I had a kind of crush on her?”

“Kara…”

“We were flirting, Alex. Honest to god flirting, with what sounded like the promise of more. I don’t know if it’s just getting away from CatCo, but I think this might be my chance.”

“When I said get the hell away from alien frat boys, I didn’t mean skip straight to banging your boss. Is this really about a story? Or are you two taking a premature honeymoon?”

“Ew, first of all, Carter’s here. Second of all, there’s a private security guy walking toward me, so I think I might actually be onto something. She rolls her window down. “Tell J’onn to have fun in the skirt, okay?”

“Kara--”

But she ends the call, locking her phone and stashing it down the side of the driver’s seat along with her notepad. By the time the man dressed in black, with at least two visible weapons, reaches Kara, she’s fumbling with a local map and making an ass out of folding it.

“Are you lost, ma’am?”

“You know, I might be!” Kara gives her best friendly giggle. “Oh wow, you look like you just got back from war.”

“Excuse me?”

“I just, I mean… you need a lot of guns to keep dairy cows in line?” She hopes her smile is charming. This guy looks like he’s never been charmed in his life. 

“This is private property. Can I see some identification?”

“I’ll just get going.”

“You do that.” His right hand twitches toward his holstered weapon, and despite her invulnerability, Kara doesn’t like the implied threat one bit. What if Cat had come to check out this site herself? Between that hair-trigger temper and these armed goons, Kara doesn’t like the prospect one bit as she turns the truck in the road and heads back toward town. 

Starving, she seeks out somewhere else for lunch, even though she could get sandwiches at Cat’s coffee shop. The diner is fifties style because nothing has changed much since that decade, it’s not some hipster attempt at kitsch. Kara takes a booth by the window, all the better to watch the town go by without drawing too much attention. 

She barely has time to sit before the sole waitress is shuffling over, a look on her face that says Kara better not be about to get picky. 

“Coffee?” The cup in front of Kara is filled before she gets a chance to answer. 

She adds creamer and sugar with a smile, glancing at the menu. “I’ll take the cheeseburger, please, no onion? And some chilli fries.”

No need to write it down, apparently. It’s not a complicated order, Kara has to admit. She can smell apple pie, too, so that’s dessert and takeout. Will Cat have the house stocked with groceries? Kara’s never known her to buy so much as a piece of fruit for herself.

“You’re new.” It’s not a question. “I’m Darla.” The drawl is too southern to be local, something Kara will make note of when she’s alone again. Her smile is friendly, and her dark eyes seem kind. 

“I just got in last night,” Kara says, wondering if it’s time to try her new story. “Kara Danvers.”

“Danvers? Like the girl at the coffee shop?” Oh, Cat will enjoy the _girl_ when it’s relayed to her.

“That’s her,” Kara confirms, still hesitating. It’s not even the lie, so much as the likelihood of small-town homophobia. “She came on ahead, but I had to finish up in my old job.”

“Never said she had someone, but then she’s not one for giving away her business. Makes a damn fine coffee, though. I shouldn’t appreciate the competition.”

“Sorry,” Kara blushes as she apologizes.

“No need, your wife there has to make a living same as anybody.”

“My wife?” Kara repeats, unable to keep the question out of it.

“Sorry, partner? I don’t see a ring now you mention it. I just assumed everyone did that, now it’s legal and all. I’ll get that burger going.”

“Oh no, I just left my rings on the nightstand,” Kara lies. “First night in a strange place and all.”

“Well, you tell her Darla says hello. And bring that boy in here before he gets any skinnier.”

“Will do.” Kara can’t imagine Cat in a _diner_. Then again, she couldn’t have imagined aprons and baseball caps and lattes, so maybe the time for preconceptions is well and truly over. 

The burger when it comes is perfect, and the fries take a lot of willpower to eat at a regular pace. Kara is about to order a second basket of them when Darla brings one over. 

“I can see when I’ve got a bottomless one on my hands,” is all she says. When Kara goes to pay the check, there’s only one portion charged. She leaves an extra five dollars with her tip, and decides it’s time for her first interview.

“Darla, since it’s quiet, can I ask you a question?”

She’s wiping down the counter, but nods her agreement. 

“I took a wrong turn this morning, ended up by a farm all out on its own, about ten minutes’ north? But I got chased off. Did I do something wrong?”

There’s no missing the way Darla freezes at the mention of the farm, but her poker face barely flickers. Impressive. 

“Oh, some of these old men out in the hills think there’s a war on,” she dismisses it. “Just stick to public roads and you’ll be fine. Say, what are you doing for work here?”

Kara’s still drawing her CatCo salary, so she doesn’t need to worry about that. “Oh, I’m working on a book,” she hedges. That way they can write the move off as research if needed. “You might be the first real character in the story at this rate.”

“Well, make sure and change the names,” Darla teases as Kara packs up to go. “And Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor, hon? Don’t mention the farm to anyone else, okay?”

“You got it.” Kara steps out into the parking lot, and the chill she feels has nothing to do with the temperature. 


	4. Chapter 4

Kara has visited Cat’s homes on numerous occasions, mostly the penthouse in National City’s most exclusive neighborhood, but also the beach house down the coast, her ski lodge in Aspen, and her family townhouse in Metropolis. There’s an extensive property portfolio beyond that, but Kara feels like she would have remembered a house in semi-rural Wisconsin.

Having the house to herself, Kara speeds from room to room, just to get the lay of the land. By which she absolutely means snooping. Her justification is that Cat would do the same thing, even without a good excuse. There are four bedrooms, two clearly occupied and a third turned into an office of sorts. There’s a pinboard filled with photos and other papers that takes up most of a wall, the pins and strings giving it an official air of investigation.

That leaves the fourth bedroom to be Kara’s, presumably. The bed is freshly-made, and there are hangers in the empty closet. Unpacking in record time, she returns first to the office to see what Cat is working on, but the board isn’t giving up a coherent narrative. There’s a dock for a laptop, but no computer in sight. Does Cat have it with her? That’s more paranoid than she would usually be. Kara looks around for a safe, finding it only when she x-rays the wall. It’s behind a framed print of a Klimt painting, the original of which is hanging in Cat’s home office in National City. Some things don’t change.

There’s little point looking in Carter’s room again, it’s the messiest in the house and there are comic books stacked up on his small desk. Wondering if she’s crossing a line, Kara takes a closer look at Cat’s bedroom. 

The bed is made, though not very neatly. A stack of paperbacks on the nightstand, and a Kindle on top of them. Cat never could settle for one book at a time. Kara smiles at some of the titles, having raced through her own copies. In all the time Cat has been gone, Kara never pictured her sitting with a book somewhere.

Instead of a separate dressing room and walls lined with built-in closets, here Cat has a simple double wardrobe. It’s crammed with clothes, though nothing like what Cat would wear to the office. Sweaters and jeans and simple t-shirts mostly. All of them designer, since Cat has changed zipcode, not had a personality transplant. 

Perfumes, cosmetics, drawers full of lacy underwear that makes Kara blush, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. Reluctantly she wanders back into the kitchen, setting up a desk of sorts at the large family table. Pulling out her notes, she realizes the one thing missing if they’re going to sell the story of being married. Who knows how many people Darla might have told already?

Making sure she’s a safe distance from the house, Kara flies off as fast as she can from a standing start. Even with this extra errand, she’ll be back before Cat. 

***

“Hard at work?” Cat asks, and truthfully Kara has been so engrossed that she didn’t hear anyone coming in.

“Something like that,” she says, getting up from the kitchen table and opening the fridge. “It’s snack time for me, do you want anything?”

The fridge is surprisingly well-stocked. Kara can’t quite picture Cat schlepping back bags of groceries, not even with her mom-mobile. 

“I didn’t do the shopping, if that’s what has you fascinated by yogurt,” Cat interrupts. “I have some paid help. Discreetly, of course. A contact from one town over handles the domestic things unless I need to involve myself at the market.”

“And you’ve been eating at the diner?” Kara puts the yogurt back and grabs ingredients for a roast chicken sandwich, heavy on the salad and mayo too. Fresh vegetables were rare on Krypton, so they’ve always been one of her favorite things about Earth. Juicy tomatoes, crisp lettuce, even the strong taste of raw onion. 

“You met Darla, then.”

“She seems nice,” Kara says. “Guessed at us being ‘married’ before I said anything. Weird, right?”

“Not really.” Cat seems mildly offended, pushing past Kara to retrieve a bottle of water. The look on her face says it won’t be long before she’s switching to something stronger. “I hope you’re not suggesting she would assume--”

“No! God, no.” 

“Good.” Cat takes a long drink of the water, waiting for Kara to continue. They’ve slipped right back into their old working rhythm. 

“I did realize we’re missing something if we’re going to pass for a couple.” Kara fumbles in her pocket for a second. “And honestly it’s weird that I know your ring size, but here we are.”

She sets two simple gold bands on the counter between them. Cat stares for a moment, then finishes her water.

“Modest, good. Much more convincing.”

“Are you going to… or should I…?”

Cat smiles at Kara’s indecision. “Oh, by all means. Do slip the ring on my finger, Kara. A regular Princess Charming, aren’t you?”

Kara only pouts a little, swiping the smaller ring and taking Cat’s left hand before she can say she was kidding.

“There you go.” Kara doesn’t let go of Cat’s hand, revelling in the warmth and softness of it in her own. The ring looks good on her, the rest of her fingers unusually bare. “I suppose this is old hat for you, huh?”

“Oh, it still has that certain something,” Cat assures her. “Even when it’s not real, there’s something about a ring on that finger that feels… well, let me show you.”

She picks up Kara’s ring more carefully, doesn’t mention the tremble in her fingers as Cat slips the ring into place. 

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Cat intones, so serious for a moment before snorting with barely-contained laughter. Kara’s heart, surging despite her gravest warnings, comes back to Earth with a bump. 

“Well, it stops anyone getting suspicious,” Kara says, sitting down to her sandwich like nothing is different. Only her left hand feels heavier, almost like she’s lopsided. Extra specially ludicrous given she can lift buildings on a whim, but there’s no telling her brain that it would seem. “Where’s Carter?”

“There’s an after school thing,” Cat nods to a schedule on the fridge that Kara had completely missed in her earlier explorations. “What did you find out? You know with the…” She mimes lasers coming from her eyes with her fingers, even making the ‘pew pew’ noise, which is totally inaccurate. Kara might be offended if it wasn’t devastatingly cute. 

Has she made a note yet of how completely doomed she is?

“That’s not how the x-ray works.” Kara can hear the creep of haughty Kryptonian in her voice, and she folds her arms, leaning into it. “Do you need the beginner’s guide to Supergirl? I thought you’d been paying attention to all my media coverage.”

Cat shrugs. It’s a little weird that she doesn’t come right back with an argument about how she’s too busy or important, or simply not that obsessed. “However you do it, did you find anything out?”

“That most of the addresses you sent me to have a kind of lead-lining in the walls, because I couldn’t see inside. That if you drive up to the farm on the way out of town, there’ll be a security guard--one with big guns--at your car before you can kill the engine. Is that the sort of thing you mean?”

Cat nods, that knowing little smirk on her face like when they have a scoop ahead of the Planet. “That’s what I thought.”

“I had a look around earlier. Should I catch up on your… research?”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that. Now, you probably worked it out already but I don’t want Carter knowing why we’re here. As soon as school break hits, he’s going to stay with his father. I can’t dig any deeper until he flies out Sunday.”

“Cat?”

“Yes?” 

“Why are we here?” It’s not that Cat having the whole idea in her head and expecting Kara to be psychic is a new development. More that something about wedding bands and casual sandwiches, and the sheer relief in Cat’s voice since Kara confirmed something suspicious about the town, is setting off one of Kara’s senses that doesn’t require superpower. She would call it Spidey sense, but honestly the one time she met Peter he was kind of an ass and she doesn’t want to give him the credit for the term.

“What do you mean? I’ve given you work to do. And not just those legs.” Cat gives an approving glance at Kara’s bare legs, because she changed into shorts and a tank top on getting back from her impromptu flight.

Kara doesn’t know if it’s too early to play the card, she was planning on more snooping or grilling Carter a little. Hell, she still has access to Cat’s email and her banking if she really wants to find out. Somehow, it’s important she hear it from Cat. 

“How did you go from diving to… here? And what happened that first month?”

“Ah.” Cat opens the fridge and pulls out the last thing Kara expected: two chilled bottles of beer. “Let’s assume it’s already 5 o’clock somewhere, shall we?”

“Cat--”

“Have a drink with me, Kara. Come out back, there’s a swing. I love a good porch swing, don’t you?”

“I… guess? We had one, growing up.”

“There you go. The universal American experience. Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Cat leads the way through the kitchen and Kara follows, trepidation in every step. She rubs the new ring on her finger and prepares to let Cat have her say.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat has a confession to make.

“Do you remember…?” Cat trails off, taking a sip of her beer right from the bottle. Kara can only assume she had the glass sterilized. “Back in National City, when you had that… off day? Well, more than one I suppose.”

Kara nods, still ashamed to even think of it. She feels a pang for Alex, for James, for all the people she coldly disregarded even as she screamed internally that she still loved them, still wanted to protect them with every fiber of her being. Not an experience she ever wants to repeat. Especially the part where she terrified Cat, throwing her off the balcony like that.

“Do you remember everything that happened while you were… under the influence? Or does it come with a handy blackout after the fact?”

“No, I remember all of it. I could see it, just not stop it.”

When Cat gives a little laugh it’s hollow, like she’s on the phone with her mother, or Lois. “Well I’ve been there, at least. Kara, can we… no, you deserve the whole story.”

She sits on the swing, motioning for Kara to join her. With her left hand, ring and all, Cat pats Kara gently on the thigh as soon as she’s sitting. 

“Cat, whatever it is… you know I’ve seen pretty much everything when it comes to you.” Kara knows better than to mention the outbursts, the temper tantrums, the threats and the darker days at CatCo.

“We had a conversation, on the balcony.”

“And I was horrible,” Kara groans. “Please, tell me you’re not lingering on anything I said to you. It wasn’t true. The red kryptonite twisted my words, my thoughts.”

Cat squeezes her thigh, effectively quieting Kara. “No, and if you think that’s the worst I’ve been called… I meant about what I said to you, about heading for a mental breakdown.”

It’s clear Cat is struggling, something Kara has rarely seen her do when it comes to communication. There have certainly been times when Kara wished Cat would communicate less, or at least at a lower volume. 

“Okay…” Kara doesn’t want to push too hard, moderating her force in conversation as carefully as she does her body. 

“And I mentioned…” Cat presses her lips together, like she’s trying to stop herself from finishing the thought. “That it happens to the best of us. That feeling I had, of being like a shark in a tank? Kara, that wasn’t professional dissatisfaction. It’s something I’ve come to recognize as a symptom.”

“So when you said you had to go away, had to dive…”

“A handy cover story,” Cat completes the thought. “I’ve learned to open up to you, especially this past year. But when it comes to this, it’s not something I’ve ever been able to talk about. Not beyond cheap jokes at my own expense and throwing back pills, anyway. Believe it or not, I was actually worried you might think less of me.”

“You think because I’m… you know, her… that I would _judge_ you? Cat, I’m still the person who had your prescriptions filled and booked your therapy appointments. Did you go somewhere? Is that what Carter doesn’t know?”

Cat exhales long and low, looking away from Kara now. “I’ve tried the gradual approach, but I’d been so distracted… I left it so late that something had clearly stopped working altogether. You just can’t get the drugs these days. Residential is the way to go when you need the equivalent of a reboot.”

“You know, Winn would probably tell you that turning it off and on again doesn’t fix as many things as you think--”

“I have new medication, a new therapist and we have twice weekly phone appointments. She doesn’t know this investigation is why I’m here. I just told her I was going to try country living, maybe write another book. You’ve inherited my cover story.”

“Are you supposed to have a cover story with your doctor?” Kara doesn’t want to be that girl, but Cat already knows that’s exactly who Kara is. The awkward question, the stubborn insistence on what _should_ be done. It’s stopped Cat from firing more than a few people, including Kara herself.

“It’s what works.” Kara knows the end of a subject when she hears it. 

“So what does that mean for us here, now?” Kara can’t help talking about them as a unit, almost a couple of. Good practice, she calls it in her head. Wishful thinking is closer to the truth. The thought of Cat going through this alone, without anyone knowing enough to comfort her, to remind her how brilliant and strong she is, breaks Kara’s heart a little. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Cat… is there really a shady government conspiracy going on here? I know I saw some weird things, but small towns are weird, and there are a bunch of shows on Netflix to prove that. If you say there is, I believe you. I just don’t want you to think there has to be a mission for me to come find you and help you.”

“Oh, there’s something going on.” Cat’s a little wild around the eyes, but she’s telling the truth. “I just knew that anyone else would either go along out of duty, or just because I intimidate them. You’re doing it because we want the same thing.”

“We do?” Kara’s throat is suddenly dry.

“You know, truth, justice, American Way? That old chestnut.” Cat gets up from the swing, taking a few steps and leaning against a pillar that holds the porch up, surveying Kara where she sits. “Even so, are you sure you want to trust my judgment? It’s understandable if you don’t.”

“I trust you,” Kara insists, on her feet before she realizes what she’s doing. Right in front of Cat now, she takes the risk of laying her hands on Cat’s shoulders, slender and warm beneath the cheap fabric of the polo shirt from the coffee shop. “Of course I trust you. Your illness and how you manage it is never going to change that.”

“It’s just that simple?” Cat scoffs. “Why? Why is trusting me so easy for you?”

“I guess I just keep coming back to… you’re the one who believed in me even when I was absent, or failed the city. The only time you spoke against me was to protect people, for their own good.”

Cat watches her speak, remaining unusually silent. She doesn’t shrug off Kara’s gentle grip on her shoulders either. 

“When I came and asked you for forgiveness, you gave it right away. Even James said he needed time, but you just let me come hang on the balcony with you. The balcony, of all places! And you think now I’m going to doubt you? To run away because you had a rough patch?”

“If you think I’m some kind of paranoid nut, this would be all the evidence you need to think I’m wasting your time. It’s why I didn’t tell you right away. I couldn’t bear if you didn’t believe me.” Unless Kara’s mistaken, that’s the shimmer of tears in Cat’s eyes. No crying at work clearly doesn’t extend to undercover work. 

“Well, I do. Maybe that makes me a fool, but I guess I’d rather be fooled.” Kara thinks she might cry herself. Instead she drops her hands, and Cat takes advantage of that to lean in. For a moment it looks like she might kiss Kara right on the lips, but Cat tilts her head in that last microsecond, soft lips landing on Kara’s cheek instead. 

Just as quickly, the contact ends, but Kara can’t help the smile that breaks out in response. She wonders if that’s her cue, to summon her courage and seek something more, but she hears the tires on gravel long before Cat does, and pulls away.

“Carter’s home,” she explains, and it sounds so natural and domestic that she blushes. “Who’s dropping him off?”

“He has new friends here, the other moms pick them up from clubs some days. It’s not the overpriced private school he’s used to, but he seems to like it a lot better.”

Kara smiles. Despite the trouble she and Alex ran into, she wouldn’t trade her Midvale education for anything else on Earth. It had given her a sister, not to mention her first real friend. Maybe she should see about getting a telescope out here. The skies would be clear enough to see, unlike in the city where she has to fly above the smog and neon. 

“Mom?” Carter calls as he unlocks the front door.

“Out back, sweetheart. Kara’s back.”

He rushes to Cat first, throwing himself into a hug that seems much more about him comforting his mother than the other way around. With that done, he turns to Kara, slightly awkward. 

“Get in here,” she insists. “If I’m going to be your stepmom, Carter, I want us to be like a proper family, okay?”

“You guys are really going with that, huh?” He asks, free of all hugging duties at last. He sets his bag on a stool at the breakfast bar and fishes out a couple of books. “I’m going to try and finish this homework before dinner, then maybe we can do something after? Mom let me bring a bunch of board games, Kara, and the XBox is all hooked up too.”

“Sounds great,” Kara reassures him, and he darts off in the direction of the stairs. “Now, I only asked you about the married thing this morning. How does Carter already know about it?”

“We may have discussed some options last night. Besides, if you want imagination, you could do worse than getting your child to help with the details. Carter is, as you know, very talented. He knows my type when he sees it by now, which helps.”

“Careful,” Kara teases. “Or I might start thinking you had more that a story in mind when you called me here. Speaking of which, where am I sleeping?”

“That,” Cat answers. “Is a very good question.” She pretends to consider, before motioning with her head for Kara to follow her upstairs. “To the bedroom?” She asks, hesitating at the foot of the stairs.

“Sounds good to me.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara gets to come and see the midwest's finest barista at work again, but all is not quite as it seems.

Kara tells herself she’s not disappointed to be shown to her own room, the one with her bags already stashed and clothes already unpacked.

“I have an office, of sorts,” Cat begins, but one glance at Kara’s expression tells her about the snooping. “Well, I’ll explain tomorrow. Come in with us for breakfast, if you like. I can show you Carter’s school, anything else you missed today.”

“I covered a lot,” Kara reassures her. She doesn’t want this night to end here, and that’s selfish of her. Still, Cat is standing right there, and this is that brave new world where they openly hint at what they want, where they touch as casually as though they always have. “Whatever’s going on here, we’re going to break the story. I promise.”

“Oh, Kara.” Cat’s voice cracks just a little again, and before she can think better of it, Kara is gathering her into a strong hug. It’s a relief to be able to hug Cat normally, even if that does mean with moderated strength. Previously, Kara’s had to be extra careful to seem weak and human. Now she can give Cat the reassurance of firmer squeezes from the arms wrapped around her.

The best part is how Cat leans into it, committing completely. Her palms are flat against Kara’s shoulder blades, the thin barrier of cotton feels like nothing at all. It’s practically skin on skin, and Kara bites her bottom lip at the very thought of it.

When they part, Cat gives the room a sweeping glance. “Try not to turn this into a branch of Urban Outfitters by morning?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Kara assures her. “Besides, you’ve never been to my apartment, how do you know how I decorate? Maybe I’m really into Martha Stewart Living.”

Cat raises an accusatory eyebrow, and Kara grins at being so easily caught out. She could get used to this. Their office banter reimagined, in the softness of a private bedroom. Only the door isn’t closed, and she can hear Carter’s computer sounds just across the hall. 

“I’m going to start dinner, but I wanted you to have some time to settle in. If you need anything…”

It’s greedy, but Kara dives in for another hug when she sees Cat turning to leave. This time Cat relaxes instantly, and Kara can feel the smile against her shoulder. “These steaks won’t grill themselves, you know.”

“Can you…” Kara is about to ask a question that should earn her a glare, but this time Cat pulls back just far enough to kiss her again. This time there’s no last minute diversion, the soft press of Cat’s lips lands right on Kara’s own.

She barely has time to react before Cat is wriggling away, back out in the hall. “Yes, I can cook,” Cat answers the unfinished question. “You didn’t think I could make my own coffee, and look how that turned out. Have a little faith, Kara.”

“Faith? In you?” Kara asks. “I’ve got plenty. I’ll come help with dinner once I freshen up.”

She lingers in the doorway long enough to watch Cat walk away, shaking her head at the deliberate sway Cat puts in her hips. If Kara was doomed before, she needs a whole new word for what Cat is doing to her now.

***

“Hey Kara,” Carter is clearly lying in wait for her when she reemerges to go help with dinner. “You and mom caught up on everything, huh?”

“You sure you don’t work for the CIA?”

“They rarely recruit minors,” Carter replies, brow furrowing for a moment thinking Kara is serious. “Oh. Did you find out--”

‘Bud, I can’t tell you things we discussed in private. I hate having secrets, but I know how close you are with your mom. I know she’ll talk to you about it when she’s ready.”

“Is she okay? My dad, I heard him say something on the phone about rehab and ever since…” Kara flinched at the news. Of all the jackass, irresponsible comments to make in front of their son. 

“She is just fine. I know you probably didn’t get to see much of your mom doing real journalism, but that’s what this whole trip is about. We’re going to find the story, and then I guess everything goes back to normal.”

“Cool. Any chance it can go back to normal before I have to go stay with my dad?”

“I’ll do what I can,” Kara offers. “Now, real questions. Was your mom kidding about being able to cook?”

“Nah, she’s not exactly Nigella Lawson or anything, but she hasn’t poisoned us yet.”

“I heard that,” Cat is halfway up the stairs, regarding them with no small amount of suspicion. “Kara, you’re on salad duty.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kara agrees, scurrying downstairs after her. 

***

“Kara?” Cat’s voice is a lot softer than the bright sunlight that Kara is basking in. Though she’s not a natural early riser, the first blast of sun each day is restorative to Kara in ways that humans can never fully appreciate. The only creatures on Earth that enjoy a sunbeam as much as Kryptonians appear to be, well, cats. “I thought you could come in with me this morning, work from the cafe.”

“Mmm,” Kara kicks off the covers, forgetting that she’s sleeping in just a tiny pair of shorts and a tank top that’s ridden up to her ribs. She remembers quickly enough when she hears Cat’s breath hitch in her throat. Ordinarly, Kara would scramble to cover herself again, but this is a post-first-kiss world, and if she has a decent figure at her disposal, then she’s not too proud to use it to her advantage. “That come with a free vanilla latte?”

“We’re leaving in thirty.” With that, Cat is gone again, and Kara chuckles to herself. She should probably update Cat on just how little notice it takes to get ready in the morning. Superspeed has her downstairs and ready to go long before Cat or Carter. Kara sips on her orange juice and smile as Cat appears in the kitchen, obviously putting two and two together.

“Fine, do your own wake up calls from now on.”

“But I really like the service here,” Kara says. “Although I didn’t get a mint on my pillow last night?”

“I seem to recall you got something a little more--”

“Hey, Carter,” Kara interrupts just in time. “How’s my favorite stepson?”

He grunts in response, the teenage years officially in full swing. Swiping a cereal bar from the counter, he hoists his backpack onto his shoulder. “See you in the car.”

Cat hands a bag of chocolate chip brioche rolls to Kara. “I know whatever snack you have in town won’t be enough. We’ll do some top up grocery shopping today. Can’t have the Girl of Steel starving on my watch.”

“Thank you.” Kara is oddly touched by the gesture, and grabs a couple of bananas to go with. “So we should get our covers straight before going out in public together, right? Carter too.”

“You’re writing a book--on something terribly dull I can never remember--and we’re married. What else is there?”

They head out and Cat locks the house carefully, setting the alarm that’s way too elaborate for such a modest property. 

“Well,” Kara asks as they slip into their respective seats in the car. “How long have we been married.”

“Less than a year,” Carter interjects, sounding much more awake now. “It makes all the smushy faces more believable if you’re still in the honeymoon period.”

Kara watches Cat glare at her son in the rearview before breaking the tension that’s descended. “So where did Catherine Danvers live and work before coming to Wisconsin?”

“Metropolis,” Cat answers smoothly. “As Cat Grant I’m basically the walking symbol of National City. I simply chose the place I knew first.”

“Okay, well I know Metropolis a bit. That works. Maybe I moved there from Midvale, met you, and now we’re on this whirlwind romantic adventure?”

Cat smirks at her as she puts the car in drive and they pull out onto the road. “So plausible.”

“You say that like Dad wasn’t your third husband, Mom,” Carter teases. “Sorry Kara, you don’t get to be my first step-parent. Definitely the best one so far though.”

“When am I taking you to the airport again?” Cat demands, before turning her attention back to the road. “We’ll play it by ear, Kara. Make sure anything crucial you either say in front of me so I know, or report back to me if you’ve been out on your own making contacts. This isn’t deep undercover, nobody is expecting us to be up to something.”

Kara exhales at that news, relaxing just a bit. She feels like she should blend in at least, dressed more like Alex than herself for a change. The plaid flannel is good defense against the morning chill, even if it’s supposed to be late summer. With ripped jeans and a high ponytail, she really could be back in Midvale. None of the changes compare with seeing Cat back in skinny black jeans and a uniform-issue polo shirt though. Kara can hardly wait for the baseball cap to make another appearance.

Carter’s school looks like something out of a turn-of-the-century novel, small wooden buildings that give way to miles of fields. It’s exactly the kind of place Kara dreams about for the white-picket-fence life she’ll never have; a million miles and more from the gleaming spires of Krypton’s finest academies.

With Carter out of the car, Cat drives far more recklessly. Her speed increases and her braking is much later, but Kara never feels that they’re in any particular danger of losing control. It’s just testament to Cat’s self-control when it comes to keeping her son safe, and it’s hard not to like that about her, too. 

If anyone else knew quite how bad Kara’s got it… She distracts herself by fiddling with her wedding ring, the band as solid and real as the marriage is fake. They don’t talk for the rest of the short journey, and Cat flips on the radio with a frown, getting only music and sports when she’s clearly hungering for real news. Kara makes a mental note to look up the radio model and get the right stations programmed in for her. Once a good assistant, and all that.

“Right,” Cat says as they get out of the car in the small parking lot. “The breakfast rush is just getting into its swing, so I’ll bring you coffee at the first lull. Vanilla latte?”

“Surprise me,” Kara offers. “You know what I like.” Still the faint sting of surprise around the coffee order back when Adam had been in town. Oh god, Kara realizes while feeling faintly queasy. She made out with her other fake-stepson. She’ll have to hope Cat keeps this family façade off his radar. 

She takes the smallest table in the far corner of the room, just one seat and no room for anyone who invites themselves. Maybe men here won’t be invasive jerks like they are in National City, but Kara isn’t naive enough to ignore that a young woman sitting along is like a neon target to men who think they’re in with a chance.

Would Cat intervene if they started hitting on Kara? As fake-wives, it would be almost expected. No, Kara realizes. Cat would expect any wife of hers to scare the poor boys off by herself. So intent on that imaginary moment, Kara doesn’t notice the pangs at first. 

Humans seem to have headaches all the time, but Kara is startled by the vice-like pressure at the base of her skull. She grips the table as gently as she can, making sure she stays sitting upright. The room gets quieter, the screech of the bean grinder and squeal of the milk frother reducing down to bearable in an instant. It’s a relief, as the pain increases and Kara finds her body desperately wanting to heave.

She tries to catch Cat’s eye, but ever the professional she’s already a bunch of orders deep and caught up in conversation with one of the official-looking suits that seem to populate most of the morning line.

Getting up carefully, Kara stumbles just a little on her way to the bathroom. Normally a trip like that would be rectified by her own superior relationship with gravity, but there’s nothing doing on the floating front.

Which means, Kara can no longer deny to herself, only one thing. 

Someone nearby has Kryptonite.


	7. Chapter 7

Kara makes it to the relative safety of the unisex bathroom, relieved there’s no one else already in evidence. Locking herself into one of the three stalls, she’s grateful the wall is sturdy enough to hold her up. 

At least in here she’s a little further away. The sweating eases up, and she can open her eyes a little wider. Holding one hand out in front of her, Kara thinks the trembling might be a bit less violent. 

How is she going to get out of here? Especially without making a scene? If someone knows Supergirl is here in town, then that kryptonite is intentional, designed to scare her off at the first round of queries. It seems unlikely though, which raises the more worrying prospect that somewhere in this town is a stash of the green rock that’s considerable enough to allow random employees, or club members, or whatever the hell is going on out here, to carry some around with them. 

A few minutes later she’s steady enough to splash water on her face and head out. Although she keeps her head down and goes straight back to her table as discreetly as possible, Kara feels Cat’s attention on her the whole time. She wants to wave or acknowledge in some way that the crisis is passing, but that would definitely only draw attention from the few other people scattered around the cafe.

Before long, the breakfast rush is clearing out. Cat darts out from behind the counter once they’re the only two in the place, reaching for Kara’s hand the very second she sits down.

“What the hell was that?” She whispers, still glancing at the street for stragglers. “You looked… ill. I thought you couldn’t get ill.”

“Does anyone know I’m here?” Kara turns the questioning around despite her persistent lightheadedness. “Not Kara Danvers, but you know…”

“Of course not!” Cat hisses. “It’s hardly undercover if I go around bragging about my connections back in the city. Why? Is that something to do with what makes you sick? It’s that green... stuff we’ve seen on the news, isn’t it? The bits of your planet turned toxic.”

“Kryptonite.” Kara wants to go outside, wants to gulp down fresh air and test her ability to take off. It would be foolish, not least if the carrier is still around. “And thanks for the concern. I can see something that can actually kill me is a big inconvenience for your coffee-making plans.”

That grabs Cat’s full attention, and she squeezes Kara’s hand, showing that she hasn’t let it go so far. Okay, so maybe she cares a little bit.

“So far I’ve had no reason to think this is anything to do with you or your cousin. In fact, this might be the first official clue you’ve discovered. I’m sorry if I was… abrupt. It’s hardly unheard of, for me.”

“Yes, but the way you spoke to your assistant about her cardigans is not the way a loving wife should talk to the wife who just flew out to join her, is it?”

“If you’re going to insist on making valid points… you never did get that coffee.”

“Water is fine,” Kara insists. “Then I should probably walk around a bit, see if it’s the people or anything fixed that’s causing this. The fact it’s easing up suggests it’s a person on the move, but I can’t be too careful. If I lose my powers, even temporarily… I can’t protect you.”

“Kara--”

“Or Carter. For as long as he’s here with us, anyway.”

“That’s not why I asked you here, you know that. But I want you to be safe, and anything that makes you sick is not acceptable. We’ll find a way to keep you as far as possible from it, as soon as there’s some concrete information.”

Cat would be just as protective with any of her staff, Kara tells herself despite the way she’s smiling. It’s just being a responsible boss, nothing more. Only then Cat’s hand is caressing her cheek, and maybe it’s to sell the whole ‘wife’ thing, but they don’t even have an audience at the moment. 

“Okay,” Kara agrees. “I’m starting to feel better, I promise.”

***

When she’s driven a few blocks away, just enough to feel fully normal again, Kara resists the urge to jump out of the Volvo and try a few aerial somersaults. Her skin zips and crackles in the sunlight though, a sure sign that full powers have been restored. Testing her vision at least, she checks there’s no one lurking anywhere near, that she really does have just empty fields and some scattered wildlife for company.

Only there are no birds singing. No bunnies hopping through longer grass. Kara’s long since stopped worrying about mosquitoes breaking themselves by trying to sting her, but there’s no buzz and hum of insect activity anywhere around either. Something is definitely up with this town, whether Cat knows exactly what yet or not.

“Alex?” It takes longer than normal for her sister to pick up.

“Hey, Kara.” A little more frazzled than normal. Not good. “How’s that Waltons life going?”

“You need me back?” Kara prods at the tension in Alex’s tone. “Is everything okay? I’ve been checking the news, but-”

“You’re good, I promise. But if you’re calling us, is that a good sign? Things getting interesting in Cabot Cove?”

“If you saw Cat lately, you’d know she’s way more Jessica Jones than Jessica Fletcher, but nice try,” Kara scoffs. “And she might be onto something if faceless suits walking around with industrial size samples of kryptonite is anything to go by.”

“What the hell?”

“There’s green k in this town, Alex,” Kara lets some of her earlier worry bleed out. Alex would ride in with her own private army before she’d let anyone mess with her sister. “And I don’t know why. Any chance the DEO keeps a list of official storage and maybe, um…”

“Unofficial? Yeah, I think we have intel like that.” Kara wants to warn her sister not to go after J’onn like Kal did, not to make it a moral debate. It hurts her, of course it has to, that the man she considers a father should keep a stockpile of weapons specifically to defeat people like her. The longer she wears Supergirl’s cape though, the more painfully she’s aware of the responsibilities that must be balanced. 

“Don’t piss anyone off, Alex. Just find out if there’s a legitimate reason for any to be out here. If not, then I’ll investigate as best I can before handing this over to the DEO.”

“And Cat Grant’s okay with that?”

“I’ll make sure she is.”

“Wait, Kara, for you to know there’s kryptonite… are you okay?” Alex’s distraction is gone now, and Kara rolls her eyes at the sudden panic. 

“I’m talking to you, how bad can I be?” A moment later her phone bleeps to say Alex wants to change their call to FaceTime. For the love of Rao, Kara sighs to herself. She jabs the screen to accept. Then she remembers her panic as she stumbled into that bathroom; maybe it’s not so terrible to have someone who cares about her that much.

“See?” Kara sets the phone on its cradle on the dash. “All limbs accounted for, head still attached to body, whole deal. I’m pretty hungry, but when am I not, right?”

“What did Cat say?” Alex is peering closely at the screen, giving Kara the best once-over she can at a distance. “She does know, right? What’s at stake for you if there’s kryptonite around? I thought this was just your crush, but if she’s really onto something dangerous...”

“She’s not stupid,” Kara reminds her, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Any human paying attention has known about kryptonite since Kal-”

“What. Is. That?” Alex interrupts with a barked demand. Kara blanches at the urgency, looking more carefully at her phone to make sure she’s not glowing green somewhere unfortunate.

“What?” She asks, seeing nothing. 

“On your _hand_.” Alex is gesturing like a Black Mercy might be crawling down Kara’s arm. “Kara, what did you do?”

It’s only when she flattens her hands against the steering wheel that Kara realizes the difference. That simple damn wedding band, glinting in the sun like it might be recharged by it too. 

“Oh, that. Well, it’s kind of a funny story actually--”

“Kara Ellen Danvers, do not make me conference in our mother. Tell me-- _tell me--_ you didn’t do anything so stupid as marrying your ex-boss.”

“Hey!” Kara thinks the protest is a little too strong now. “Come on, you know it’s not… it’s a cover, okay? She was using the name Danvers, so when another one showed up, it just made sense.”

“Meanwhile you’re all giddy about playing suburban housewife in a town full of one of the few things that can kill you. Kara, you’re not gonna like this question but… are you sure there’s not another reason Cat lured you there?”

“ _Lured_?” Kara practically spits. “Like she’s down a storm drain and here I am with my paper boat? I’m not a kid. And after you and Eliza, she’s the person I’m most sure wishes me no harm on this Earth. So there.”

“Such a loyal wife,” Alex sighs, the melodrama barely hiding her snort of a laugh. “I’m going to get into this, but you need to dig deep there, too. Including into Cat. Promise? The whole story, Kara. If not, next time we talk I’ll be rappelling out of a chopper.”

“You just like showing off. But fine,” Kara huffs, hanging up after sticking her tongue out at Alex. Just as Kara tucks her phone away, there’s a rapping of knuckles on the car window that makes her squeal. Cat rolls her eyes, and opens the door herself. 

“I’m done for the morning,” Cat explains. “These hours would be impossible for an actual single mother to support herself on, but it gives us research time. Where do you want to start?”

Kara’s stomach rumbles, answering for her.

Cat slams the door and walks around to the passenger seat, easing herself in. The coffee shop uniform is gone, a faded gray tee and well-loved leather jacket paired with the tight jeans now. 

“To the diner, then,” Cat says, slipping her sunglasses on. “Darla knows more than she’s telling, don’t you think?”

Kara guns the engine, giving Cat a cautious sideways glance. “Most people are.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat and Kara get to try out their fake marriage in public. Feat. real kissing.

“What’s wrong?” Cat demands when they park outside the diner. She makes no move to leave the truck, watching the diner and its few occupants from behind her dark glasses. “Surely you must be ready for third breakfast, or whatever hobbity name you have for it.”

“I think the sunglasses are a little too ‘Cat Grant’, don’t you?” 

Kara gets a glare over the top of them, but persists. “I mean, they’re Tom Ford. Not exactly barista-salary, right?”

“I was going with divorcée in need of a time-killing job until you showed up and married me,” Cat reminds her. “Am I not slumming it enough?”

Kara roots around in her purse, undeterred. She hands Cat a pair of the drugstore shades she always has a few of. Leopard print frames, just a hint of the cat-eye shape Cat prefers for her reading glasses. “Here. And we should probably do something about your hair, too.”

“You’re saying a ponytail isn’t disguise enough?” Cat snorts in accusation. She peers at the plastic frames before trading the glasses with a sigh. “Lots of people have blonde hair. Isn’t it enough I’ve given up my regular stylist?”

“Do you want to go fully undercover or not?” Kara is surprised she sounds so snappish. “Only this isn’t some vague notion of shady now. There are people wandering around with the means to kill both me and my cousin. That’s worrying enough, without you putting your very famous face in the mix. I can’t believe no one’s spotted you already.”

“It’s all about context.” Cat opens the passenger door. “You of all people should know that.”

“Cat, please.” Kara doesn’t know why she’s so insistent, but she lays a hand gently on Cat’s forearm. “I’d really like to have a serious talk about strategy, now we know the stakes are higher than before. And that includes potentially things like dyeing your hair, or being more careful about your accessories.”

“Dye my hair? I’ve stayed blonde when I had every reason not to, why change now? This isn’t Gone Girl, Kara. Though if we can ruin Affleck’s life in the process, we absolutely should.”

“You are taking this seriously, right? Because a little while ago I was almost taken out by some pretty strong kryptonite. Whoever these people are, they want what they’re doing protected from me. But you don’t know anything about them yet, right?”

“What do you mean?” They’re arguing over the hood of the truck now, both out and the doors locked. 

“I mean… nothing. When we get back tonight, I need to catch up on your notes, the whole shrine thing. That won’t be a problem, right?”

“If it were a secret would it be all over the walls in an unlocked room?” Cat fires back. “What’s gotten into you? Is paranoia one of the after effects?”

“Listen, we can just go home-”

“I’m not disrupting my routine now,” Cat argues. “On my short days I go to the diner, so Darla’s expecting me. Now come and play the faithful wife. Or the pissed off one. God knows I’m used to either.”

She strides off towards the diner, and Kara sighs deeply before following. Despite the doubts Alex has sown, Kara still feels sure that she and Cat are playing on the same team. If anything, Cat being exactly as frustrating as always only proves it further. 

Cat has taken up a seat in the corner, with a decent view out of the large window while being obscured from outside view. She’s good. Kara makes to slide into the booth on the opposite side, right in the window, but Cat clears her throat pointedly.

“Beside me,” she hisses, and Kara does as she’s told just in time for Darla to come striding over. Her hair is styled differently today, the rows starting at her forehead are glossy and tight. It opens up her face, making her smile all the brighter and more welcoming.

“Catherine Danvers, you sneaky thing! How did you keep the hot wife from me this whole time?”

“You know me, Darla. I mind my business, and everybody else minds theirs.” Cat’s voice is deeper, her usually impatient and clipped tones that bit softer. It’s not a complete vocal transformation, but it’s very much a _version_ of Cat as Kara knows her. “Besides, I didn’t want to get my hopes up until she was actually here.”

“You’ve got it bad, girl. Hey, Kara.”

“Hey, Darla. How are you?”

“Not as happy as you and the wife here, judging by that smile you can’t keep off your face.” Which, okay, has nothing to do with Kara’s earlier doubt and everything to do with the way Cat has casually taken her hand while perusing the laminated menu. “How did you two stay apart so long in the first place?”

“Well, someone had to tidy up back in Metropolis, and my job were really weird about letting me go,” Kara says. “My boss was a real hardass, you know?”

“Bitch on wheels?” Darla asks. “I know the type. What can I get you both?”

They place their orders in varying degrees of cheeseburger, and the longer Cat doesn’t let go of her hand, the more Kara relaxes. It’s barely coming up on midday, so there’s no lunch crowd yet. 

“I was going to ask what your secret is.” Cat interrupts the comfortable silence. “How the skin on your hands is so soft, I mean. Then I remembered it’s more magical sun power than good product choice.”

“Well, that helps a little,” Kara admits. “I still have to wash my hair and shower regularly, you know. Brush my teeth, all that jazz. It’s just if I forgot it would take longer for anyone to notice.”

“Well, don’t forget,” Cat says, just a fraction too casually. “Because I prefer minty fresh when I do this.”

Kara’s heart stops beating. She can hear the absence of it right away. All because Cat’s arm is draped over Kara’s shoulders now, pulling her closer as they tilt towards each other. There’s no deliberation about the kiss, brief though it is, barely time for their lips to part after the first meeting. Routine, casual, absolutely regulation and normal.

Then Kara’s heart beats again and she inhales sharply enough to crack a rib or two in any other body. Act cool, she pleads silently with herself. They’re selling the settled nature of the relationship. With considerable self-control, she manages not to crack the formica-coated table. 

“... duly noted,” is all she can think to say when she gathers herself. Cat is watching her with a fond smile. The handful of other diner patrons barely give them a glance. “Checking for homophobes?”

“No, I just realized I could… so I did.” That’s about as much explanation as Kara ever gets. She doesn’t suppose she minds. 

“Well, you know,” Kara clears her throat quickly. “That works both ways.” She places a finger under Cat’s chin, pulling her even closer for a second, longer kiss that they’re both smiling into. How could Cat be up to anything sinister when she kisses Kara this openly?”

“Am I gonna need a bucket of cold water over here?” Darla interrupts before they get too carried away, setting Cat’s Diet Coke down along with Kara’s faintly ridiculous strawberry shake. “Oh don’t stop on my account, it’s nice to see some happy people around here for a change, instead of all these suits.”

“I hope they tip well at least,” Cat says, pulling her drink closer and sitting back with one arm still around Kara’s shoulders. “They’re not so bad at the coffee shop. I could live without the flirting though.”

“Well, that’s men for you, hon.” Darla’s attention swings to the door as two of the suits they’re discussing come strolling in and take counter seats. “I guess those sad little moments are as exciting as it gets around here for them.”

“Where do they all work?” Kara asks, getting a warning squeeze from Cat, but she knows what she’s doing. “I mean, I haven’t seen much in the way of office buildings around here.”

“I’ll just go check on your burgers.” Darla changes tack quickly, disappearing into the kitchen.

“For God’s sake!” Cat is almost hissing as she tries to conceal her anger. “You’re about as subtle as a slap to the face.”

“I’m _new_ ,” Kara reminds her. “It would be weirder if I didn’t have questions. And when she comes back I’ll frame it up as I might need secretarial work, in case the writing doesn’t go as planned.”

“Mmm,” Cat considers, watching the men who’ve come in and are muttering quietly between themselves without so much as picking up a menu. “Now would be an excellent time for an unofficial scan of those briefcases, darling. I’m assuming since you look okay that they’re not carrying any…?”

“Not as much as earlier, for sure,” Kara reassures. She slips her glasses just a little down her nose, and is relieved when x-ray vision fires up right away. No kryptonite present. “Okay, all clear for guy number one, and the only thing he’s carrying is a sandwich that he’s ignoring in favor of diner cuisine.”

“And the other?”

Kara scans his briefcase by shifting slightly closer to Cat, bumping their hips together. “Nothing green,” she reassures, glancing over the documents exposed only to her eyes. “But there are some requisition forms, and I swear I know that signature from somewhere…”

Darla reemerges with their plates, and Kara forces herself to sit back. That jagged approximation of a name, it means something.

“What is it?” Cat whispers as soon as they’re alone again, instinctively stealing one of Kara’s fries, smirking when Kara doesn’t bat her hand away.

“Not here, so hurry up with lunch,” Kara says, attacking her own plate with gusto. “Someone we know is involved in all this, but we can’t talk about it out in the open like this.”

Cat’s eyes light up. The thrill of the chase. It’s on.

“So you’re saying we should hurry home?” Cat asks, picking up cutlery for her breadless cheeseburger. “To an empty house, with hours before Carter gets home? I don’t think you saw anything at all.”

Kara almost chokes on her second mouthful of fries. “I, uh…”

“Clearly all that talk about working your legs has you distracted,” Cat offers a weak little sigh with it, the drama queen. “And I suppose those innocent little kisses didn’t help, hmm?”

Kara shakes her head. She’s not sure what she’s answering at this point. She ignores the nagging, Alex-like thought at the back of her head that someone is being a little too insistent on distracting Kara. All she can think is that Cat seems to be honest-to-Rao propositioning her, and everything else can work itself out later. 

“I’ll get the check now so we can leave sooner,” Kara decides out loud. “Then home it is.”

“Home,” Cat repeats back to her. “Yes, I think that will work out quite nicely.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home James, and don't spare the horses...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RATING: bump.

Kara doesn’t know what to do with herself on the drive home. She tries fiddling with the radio, but it’s static to static and occasional bursts in between. The car can clearly be rigged with Bluetooth, she’s going to do that as soon as she looks up how, then she can play her own music to infuriate Cat even further.

At least they’re building a rhythm. Kara tries to find a station, Cat smacks her hand away and turns the radio off again. The drive isn’t a long one, and they barely pass another car on the way. The wheels haven’t come all the way to a stop when Kara hops out of the passenger seat and marches towards the front door. Sheer instinct has her scanning the walls, but they’re definitely alone. No reason why they shouldn’t be. 

But while Kara’s fumbling for her keys, Cat is suddenly right behind her. Actually pressing up against her, as though she doesn’t give much of a damn whether they get through the door or not.

“I thought you were-”

“The radio thing was annoying, but not exactly fatal to your chances, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“No, what I’m trying to ask,” Kara turns even though Cat’s hands are actually on her waist. “Is what we’re doing? I know we’ve been flirting, but with the fake marriage in play, I just don’t want to get this wrong and overstep…”

“Pretty sure the only one stepping right now is me,” Cat says. “I think we’ve made our feelings clear about this, Kara. No more hiding behind CatCo roles, no more pretending. If you’ve changed your mind now fantasy is closer to reality…”

“No!” Alex be damned, Kara is officially kicking her sister out of her thoughts for the rest of the afternoon. Trust is a gut feeling, a certainty that Kara has carried with her about so few people. Those who think she’s naive mistake her. It’s simply that she gives everyone a chance to prove themselves better than the worst possible option. Cat has done that time and again, despite her temper and bouts of pettiness. 

And, well, Kara is pressed against the front door of _their_ home, such as it is, with Cat’s hands firmly on her and more kissing just inches away. How long exactly is she supposed to hold out in the face of that temptation? She’s an alien, not a saint.

“No what?” Cat asks, staring into Kara’s eyes without flinching. 

“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” Kara says, before placing the quickest, lightest of kisses at one corner of Cat’s mouth. “Because I have fantasized about this.” Another kiss, the opposite corner. Cat’s eyes flicker closed. “And I want it to be real more than just about anything.”

The next kiss Cat takes charge again, and it’s a soft exploration of a kiss that simultaneously lets Kara be bundled backwards through the door and halfway up the stairs. Only her super gravity keeps her properly upright, but the kisses now are coming hard and fast and peppered with soft little moans that promise so much more. She bodily lifts Cat and carries her the rest of the way, gratified when those slender legs wrap around her waist. There’s no point pretending to hesitate and work out which room, and they’re barreling into Cat’s bedroom seconds later, pulling jackets from each other and kicking off shoes. 

“Oh Kara,” Cat sighs as Kara kisses her neck, sucking ever so gently as she goes. “I was so worried when I told you, when you saw me at my weakest, that this would never happen.”

“Hey, hey,” Kara soothes. “There’s always going to be some reason not to try. Something to hide, something we don’t want to admit. But there are enough secrets and lies in the world, Cat. I don’t want to have any more with you.”

Cat’s response is to slip her hand under the hem of Kara’s denim skirt. Kara responds in kind by unbuttoning Cat’s jeans and with every new inch of skin exposed, every new place they get to touch, there’s no denying they’re already in deep. 

“Who knew?” Cat says, smothering a chuckle against Kara’s shoulder. “That it would take this ...nowhere … to finally make this happen?”

“I don’t mind where,” Kara admits. “I’m just--oh!--glad it’s happening.” Cat’s questing fingers have made their way to Kara’s underwear and there’s a devilish precision to each stroke. 

“I’ve dreamed of seducing you in Paris, Rome, my villa in St Barth’s…”

“Is your property portfolio supposed to be a turn on?”

Cat flips them, using her knee for leverage and taking Kara by surprise. “Depends. Is it working?”

“Let’s just keep our heads in Wisconsin for now?” Is all Kara can think to say as her skirt is shimmied down her legs, her plaid shirt undone button by agonizing button. “I can’t believe this day. From you making coffee, which is still way hotter than it should be by the way, to seeing you eat _diner food_ , and now you’re… you’re … oh, _Cat_.”

Kara’s train of thought is positively derailed as Cat’s mouth finds her nipple through the rasping lace texture of her bra. Reaching blindly, Kara grabs Cat’s left hand with her own, the limbs pressed between them a moment later. Their wedding bands ( _not real, not real_ Kara’s brain tries to chime in, but there’s no room for the thought) clink together and there’s a brief moment when Kara thinks she might cry.

She was never supposed to find this. Connection, a partner, a family. The house practically has a white picket fence, even if it is all a convenient cover story. The part of Kara who should be keeping a safe distance, building a little wall around her heart, is fading by the second. Can she really continue this knowing she’s all in, and Cat might just ditch her the minute the story breaks? Kara’s recovered from the Black Mercy and fighting her cousin, but that blow is one she isn’t sure she could come back from. Just as she considers calling a halt to what they’re doing, Cat mutters a question while kissing her way down Kara’s abs. 

“So who signed the papers?”

The papers? Right. Diner, x-ray vision, guys in suits. Thinking is getting way more difficult the lower Cat gets. The bed creaks a little as she shifts her weight, and Kara blurts out the answer before she forgets again.

“Oh. Um?”

“Kara?” The look Cat shoots her is filled with heat but just a crinkle of that trademark impatience. “What was the name?”

“It’s not… I mean, it’s hardly unusual, considering…” Kara doesn’t know why she’s so damn flustered. “It’s someone we already know, is why I thought it was worth paying attention to.”

“For the love of…”

“All right! It’s Maxwell Lord. Who has already been in trouble for messing with kryptonite, so it’s probably why he moved anything to do with it all the way out here. I mean, it’s not great, but better the devil we know, right?” 

Cat scrambles back up to sitting, and even with the distraction of her being down to her lingerie, it’s the most awkward Kara has ever seen her. 

“Max is part of this?” And before Kara can reach for her, bring Cat back into the moment, Cat is yanking her gray T-shirt back on and making a beeline for her bedroom door.

“Hey!” Kara calls after her. “We were… we’re in the middle of… Cat?” Getting no response, Kara pulls her shirt on, doing up a cursory button or two. Sure, she could super speed herself back to fully-dressed, but she’s still hoping the interruption will be temporary.

She finds Cat in the office, pulling her laptop from the safe and setting it up on the desk. With her legs bare, bending over like she is, Kara finds herself momentarily dumbstruck. 

“Uh, Cat?” She finally manages to utter. “I don’t know if you noticed, but we were kind of doing something through there?” Kara jerks her thumb back in the direction of the bedroom, earning an eye roll from Cat at the awkwardness when she looks up. 

“And while it was very enjoyable, this is the first concrete lead I’ve had since a bunch of useless number plates,” Cat explains, punching her password in too quickly and getting it wrong. “Oh for God’s-”

Kara slips in and enters the password correctly, pleased that some things haven’t changed. “You know,” she rubs Cat’s shoulders gently as she sits in the desk chair. “A girl could feel rejected, being kicked out of bed for Max Lord.”

“It’s all starting to make sense,” Cat mutters. “Don’t you see? The structure of the companies, the resources they’d have to draw on. Ha! It could only be more under my nose if it were running through CatCo. I _know_ him. I know how he operates.”

“LordTech has facilities all over the world.” Kara should know, she and Alex have researched them extensively for tangles with Max. “Does it matter that they have one here?”

“It does when it’s completely disguised and they’re dealing in the one rock that can overpower you and your cousin,” Cat says. “At first it was just a distraction, something to keep my brain ticking over while I finished recovering. I’ve been looking at everything from illegal fracking to human trafficking, but nothing fit. Now I have one concrete fact, I can start picking out the patterns.”

“Sounds like a lot of work,” Kara sighs. “You might want to finish getting dressed before Carter gets home.”

“Hmm?” Cat is already engrossed in a document that she seems to have scanned in. Who knows how she got hold of that. 

“Never mind.” Despite her sulk, Kara fetches the rest of Cat’s clothing and folds it, leaving it beside her desk while she works, lost to the world for a while. The mundane actions let Kara’s blood lose some of its thunder, and by the time she slips in and out of a cool shower, she’s almost thinking straight again. 

It would be easy to rejoin Cat in the office, ask how she can help, but Kara isn’t feeling much inclined in that moment. Instead she fires off a text to Alex, letting her know that Lord is on the radar, and asking her to send over anything they’ve gathered on him that isn’t classified. Kara’s pretty sure it won’t be much, given the DEO’s fondness for redacting everything. 

Flopping down on her own bed, Kara stubbornly pulls out the paperback she’s been making slow progress with, finally getting into the story one more chapter in. Her first awareness that Cat has come to find her is a finger appearing at the top of the page and gently pulling the book down until it’s no longer an obstacle between them.

“You didn’t come back.”

“No.” Kara doesn’t appreciate it being leveled like an accusation. She makes to return to her book, but Cat plucks it from her hand and tosses it across the room without looking. “Do you mind? I’m trying to sulk here.”

“And as adorable as that is,” Cat almost keeps the groan from her voice. “You’re right, we were in the middle of something much more interesting before. I don’t mean to make excuses, but when I’m a little off-kilter, that obsessive streak of mine can… well. You saw what it does.”

Kara props up on her elbows, the sympathy welling in an instant. She can’t forgive Cat just anything, but she hadn’t considered that Cat’s methodologies might also be informed by her illness. So much for taking care of her. 

“You didn’t put your pants back on,” is her response, along with a slow grin. “And hey, this bed is just as good as any other.” She pulls Cat down on top of her, sealing their detente with a kiss. Just before it can get thoroughly fun again though, Kara hears the approaching sound of a car. 

“Sounds like Carter’s back from his extracurriculars.”

This time Cat does groan, letting her hair fall in her face. “God help me, I love my son. But I think I’m going to enjoy at least a little bit of him being off with his father this time around. I don’t suppose you want to fly him back tonight by hand, by any chance?”

“Not much chance, no,” Kara admits. “Especially since he doesn’t know I’m Supergirl. It’s a small detail, but…”

“Fine, fine,” Cat says, pulling herself off of Kara and heading off in search of those elusive pants. “I didn’t find anything else in my notes about Max, if you were wondering.”

“Doesn’t that kind of blow the whole undercover thing? He knows us both.”

“He’s also still safely tucked up in National City,” Cat answers. “Giving us at least a window of time to get evidence of what’s going on here. There’s a chance he’s just bankrolling.”

“You always give him a pass, don’t you?” Kara can’t help asking. “Everyone else knows he’s a douche, but you just have that fond little Max smile for him. Will you give him the benefit of the doubt if he’s trying to get rid of me and my cousin for good?”

“Of course not,” Cat comes back to reassure, placing her hands on Kara’s cheeks, stroking gently with her thumbs. “But starting tonight we have to dig deep on this. We’re going to have to take some real risks.”

“Okay,” Kara agrees. “I can do that.”

The front door opens downstairs and Carter calls out for them both. 

“I’ll see you downstairs,” Cat says, and this time she makes it all the way out of the room. 


End file.
